


Rivers and Roads ('Til I Reach You)

by NoStrings_OnMe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, INFINTIY WAR SPOILERS, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Steve and Bucky finally get to be happy, how the kids finally defeat Thanos, infinity war fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 05:28:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 12,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14466024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoStrings_OnMe/pseuds/NoStrings_OnMe
Summary: "It should have been me..."After the events of Avengers: Infinity War, the gang has to pick up the pieces of their lives and figure out how to fix what Thanos broke. This is the story of how a decades-long romance will save the day.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> After the events of Avengers: Infinity War, Steve Rogers is a broken man. He just got Bucky back, and now he's gone again. Fueled by guilt and self-destructiveness, Steve teams up with the remaining Avengers and Guardians to reverse the destruction that Thanos caused, and hopefully defeat the Mad Titan once and for all. They can't do it alone, though, so it's time to call in the big guns: the ex-girlfriend.
> 
> Title inspired by the song Rivers and Roads by The Head and the Heart

_“…Steve?”_      

Steve knelt on the ground, fingers digging in the dirt. His ears were still ringing, and dried tears pulled against his face. He lifted a handful of the dust – _not dust, Bucky, it was Bucky, he was here and then he wasn’t, he_ – and closed his fist, breathing shakily.

            It was over. They had lost. Thanos had come and gone, leaving unparalleled destruction in his wake. He had watched his friends die right in front of him, turning slowly to ash before blowing away in the wind.

            Steve didn’t know how long he had been sitting there on the forest floor of Wakanda, but he knew he was now alone. T’Challa was gone, too, so Steve might not even be welcome here anymore. He had no idea how many of the other Avengers or Guardians had survived; it was eerily silent, barely even a rustle in the trees.

            _It should have been me,_ he thought bitterly, fresh tears coming to his eyes. It was getting dark now, the skies turning a deep purple as the sun set behind the mountains surrounding him. Steve took a deep breath before standing up, wincing at the sharp pain in his abdomen from where he’d taken a hit from the gauntlet. He moved to go back towards the main building but found himself unable to leave the pile of ash spread across the dirt.

            It felt…wrong to leave Bucky’s ashes carelessly on the ground. Steve knew that they weren’t really his friend’s remains, per se, but the soldier in him was pressing.

_No one gets left behind._

            Wiping the tears from his face, he knelt back down and began scooping the ashes into his hands; what he could not carry he put in the pockets of his utility belt. He then turned and walked away from the city, back towards the small cabin nestled in a far-away field.

 


	2. 2

It was fully dark by the time that Steve made it to Bucky’s home. He opened the door, which creaked slightly, and flipped on the dim lights.

            Everything was exactly as they had left it the night before, and it broke his heart.

            Bucky’s cloak and shawls were hung neatly by the door, and the plates from their breakfast still sat in the sink. The novel that Bucky had been reading ( _read in whispered tones out loud to Steve as he lay with his head in his lap, letting Steve gently comb through his hair with his fingers_ ) was face-down on the coffee table, open to his last page.

            Steve pressed his lips together in an effort to keep the tears at bay. He poked through some of the cupboards until he found a large pot and a lid. Deciding this would work well enough, he carefully transferred the ashes. It still felt too impersonal, too perfunctory, so Steve braved a walk further into the cabin towards the bedroom.

            This room, too, was like walking into a memory. A small mattress was nestled in the corner, the sheets kicked down and crumpled at the bottom ( _their hurried movements, strong limbs tangled and eager because there wasn’t enough time, there is never enough time_ ). Next to it, a short bookshelf ( _“Built it myself, Stevie! Y’know, I’m getting pretty good with just one hand.”_ ) stuffed with worn paperbacks and journals. The windowsill ( _“It’s a beautiful view from here, Buck.” “Sure is. I miss the city a bit, though.” “Wakanda?” “No, punk, Brooklyn.”_ ) on the other side of the room held a small assortment of herbs and succulents, growing tall in a series of mismatched pots and bowls.

            Forcing himself back into the present, Steve turned and opened the door to the narrow closet. On the floor was a beat-up ammo box, which he opened with the code: 070418. Inside the box were the few material belongings that Bucky had managed to smuggle or steal during his years on the run. Steve sorted through letters, worn papers, and knickknacks (which Bucky had always had a penchant for) until he found what he needed: Bucky’s WWII draft card, torn in the corner but still legible. Paperclipped to the top was his army photo.

            Steve smiled sadly, tracing his thumb across the headshot. Bucky’s smile seemed to glow through the paper, wide and excited and _so naïve_ to the things that were yet to come. His hat was cocked at an angle, naturally, and his face was clean-shaven and bright and absent of all the scars and lines worn in from a lifetime of horrors. His eyes too were different, much brighter and less suspicious. It was still Bucky, though. Through and through.  

            _“I’m likin’ the beard,” Bucky said, nosing softly at Steve’s jawline. It was only a few hours after Steve’s jet had landed and they had been reunited, albeit not under the best of circumstances. After a quick briefing with King T’Challa’s team, they had made their (flimsy) excuses and Bucky had taken them back to his cabin, his home in Wakanda._

_“Oh good,” Steve smiled, wrapping his arm tighter around Bucky’s back. They lay naked on Bucky’s bed, the sheets strewn around them after the activities of their second “reunion”. Bucky had his head resting on Steve’s broad chest, their legs intertwined. It was almost as if they were trying to get as close as possible to make up for the decades of being forced apart. “I would’ve kept it even if you didn’t.”_

_Bucky faked disbelief, nipping not-so-softly at Steve’s earlobe. “Nice to know my opinion is valued around here!” he hmphed, before reaching over to tickle that one particular spot on Steve’s side. “I put you up in my home and this is the thanks I get?”_

_Steve yelped, grabbing Bucky’s waist and flipping them over. He pinned Bucky’s arms at his sides, but they both knew it was only for show. He loomed over Bucky, a smarmy grin on his face. “Let’s face it, pal,” he said. “You’ve never really had the greatest eye for style.”_

_“Oh, you used to love my suspenders, buddy,” Bucky retorted, squirming under Steve’s grip until their hips were pressed together. Steve inhaled sharply and ground down harder, making Bucky’s next statement come out a little breathy. “You usta…use ‘em to pull me down so you could get all up in my face.”_

_“No need for that now,” Steve remarked, pausing in his ministrations. He let go of Bucky’s wrists and propped himself up on his right arm, cupping Bucky’s cheek in his left hand. “I can see your face just fine now,” he murmured._

_“How d’yknow it’s me, though?” Bucky asked, not taking his eyes off Steve. “How do you know you’re looking at Bucky?”_

_Steve leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Bucky’s nose. “You think I wouldn’t know my best guy just about anywhere?” he asked. “Y’think that this - ” he ran his finger lightly around the curve of Bucky’s face “- isn’t all that I’ve been thinkin’ about for the past ninety years?”_

_Bucky blushed under Steve’s gaze, breaking eye contact. “How could you remember?” he asked quietly, placing his hand gently over Steve’s own. “I’m different now, Stevie. I ain’t the same guy you knew back then.”_

_“Neither am I,” Steve replied, without hesitation. “We’re both different, Buck. But not in a bad way. We’re just…older,” he decided, interlocking their fingers and bringing their hands up to his face. He traced Bucky’s knuckle against his lips. “Maybe not wiser, but definitely older. And besides, the things ‘bout you that I loved didn’t change one bit.”_

_Bucky smiled again, this time with a salacious tilt to his lips. “Oh yeah?” he quipped, pushing his finger harder against Steve’s lips until the other man opened his mouth, biting down into the digit. “What do you love about me?”_

_Steve laughed and released their hands, rolling back over so he could pull Bucky to lay across his chest. Bucky snuggled tight against Steve’s body, loose hairs from his bun ticking Steve’s neck. “Always fishin’ for compliments, Barnes,” he chided. Steve cranked his neck so that he could lay a kiss in Bucky’s hair, earning a sigh from his lover. They lay still for a few moments and Bucky’s breathing evened out, so steady that Steve assumed he was asleep._

_“Your wit,” he whispered, rubbing his hand soothingly across Bucky’s shoulder. “Your intelligence. The way that you keep me safe, keep me in line. Your insatiable sweet tooth. That thing that you do with your tongue, but only for me. Your laugh. Your strength, your courage.” Steve held Bucky a little tighter, his voice dropping. “I love that you always find your way back to me.”_


	3. 3

Steve set the photo and the card aside and was about to close the box when something caught his eye. A glint, at the bottom underneath some old coins and other pictures. Steve reached in and pulled out a set of dog tags. He let out a sigh and turned them over in his fingers. “ _James Barnes_ ,” they read. “ _107 th infantry._” He held the cold metal close to his chest, taking a few steadying breaths before slipping the chain over his head.

            He had always dreamed of wearing Bucky’s tags, and had hoped that Bucky would want to wear his as well. It was as close to a wedding ring as they’d ever be able to get, in Steve’s mind. Renewed by having this piece of his lover so close to him, Steve stood up, grabbed the pot, and went outside. He grabbed a shovel from the pile of tools by Bucky’s garden and set about digging a hole by the tree to the east of the cabin. It didn’t take too long to dig ( _there wasn’t much left of him_ ), and soon enough Steve laid the pot gently in the dirt. He lifted the lid and set the draft card in the ash before replacing it and shoveling the dirt back over the grave.

            He collected some rocks from around the cabin and grabbed a few of the yellow flowers that were beginning to bloom in the small garden. Then, Steve made a small pile on top of the fresh dirt. He stood there for a moment, alone in the dark and the quiet, before exhaling shakily.

            He had to do this.

            “Bucky, I - ” he started, his voice catching in his throat. “I’m so sorry,” he said thickly. “It should have been me, baby, you’d just gotten your life back after so many years, you didn’t deserve this.” He wiped at his face as the tears began to fall but continued on. “You were a good man, Barnes. What they did to you never changed that. I looked up to you my whole life, and all I ever wanted was for you to be happy.” He smiled sadly, scuffing the tip of his boot around in the dirt. “I’m so grateful that you decided to be happy with me.”

            He cleared his throat, trying to sound more authoritative this time. “Buck, I swear to you, I’m gonna make this right. This isn’t goodbye. I don’t care what it takes, I don’t care what I have to do…I’m going to bring you back. I’m going to bring all of them back,” he promised quietly.

            Steve stood there for a moment more, torn between staying at the cabin and therefore closer to his memories of Bucky and going back to the city to hop on the first jet he could find, when he heard footsteps behind him.

            He turned around quickly, poised to fight, but straightened when he saw who it was. Natasha ( _she must not have wanted to startle him, if she’d gone to the trouble of making sure her footsteps could be heard_ ) held up her hands, a thin smile on her lips. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay,” she said, walking closer. “I just came to make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid.” Her eyes flickered towards the makeshift grave, and Steve could see her smile falter for a moment into something much sadder.

            “How’d you know I’d be here?” he asked, trying to clear his voice. Natasha just gave him a _look_ , and he nodded his head. He gestured towards the grave. “It just…it didn’t feel right to leave ‘im there all alone. I needed to…to do something. To fix this.”

            Natasha just shook her head sadly and stepped closer to Steve. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her in a half-hug. “I know,” she whispered. “I know what you mean.”

            “You loved him too,” Steve acknowledged quietly, and she shrugged her shoulders, stepping out of his grip.

            “Once upon a time, I suppose,” she said slowly. She looked up at Steve, her eyes serious. “But not like you did. You two had something special, something infinite.” She knelt to the grave and placed her hand on the dirt, a silent prayer. When she stood back up, she inclined her head back towards the main building, and they started on their way.

            “So you’re going to go after him,” she said, more than asked. Steve clenched his jaw and nodded.

            “I have to, Nat. It’s the only way. I mean, it’s my fault that -”

            “How in the world is this your fault, Rogers?” Natasha snapped, her voice suddenly sharp. “Tell me, how?”             Steve faltered for a minute. “Well, I mean, this is what I’m supposed to do. This is what they _created_ me to do. And if I can’t even save my fucking _best friend,_ then -”

            “No,” she growled. “This is no one’s fault, Steve, no one but Thanos. You saw the gauntlet, you saw the Stones. You know what they could do!” She pointed her finger at him angrily. “This is not our fault. And it’s especially not yours.”

            Steve pinched his nose and exhaled noisily before continuing to walk ahead of her. “It doesn’t matter if you’re right, Nat,” he acquiesced. “I’m going after him either way.”

            She jogged to catch up. “Not by yourself, you’re not.”

            Steve snorted. “I would never ask you to do that,” he told her. “And I don’t even know who else is _alive_! T’Challa sure isn’t, so maybe our first order of business is getting out of his city, since we’re no longer welcome here.”

            “What makes you think that?” Natasha asked. “Shuri still lives. She was next in line to take his place, so she’s already begun administrative duties.” She half-grinned at Steve. “She takes care of shit, I’ll give her that. She’s gonna be fine.” Natasha gave him a hard look. “And the Wakandans know that this isn’t our fault, either. T’Challa made a decision to open the borders and they supported him. They know that we tried our best.”

            “Yeah, well,” Steve grumbled. “I guess our best wasn’t good enough.”

            Natasha rolled her eyes. They had made it back to the center of the city, and dawn was breaking light blue across the skyline. She directed them towards the main building and they took an elevator up to the center floor.

            Princess Shuri greeted them, enveloping Natasha in a big hug. “You found him!” She sounded relieved, which caused Steve to feel a tinge of guilt in his stomach. All of his friends had just watched all of their other friends die, and then he just disappeared. _Dammit, Rogers,_ he thought to himself.

            The surviving Avengers had clearly been worried too. Thor stood up and lifted him off the ground in a hug. “We have missed you, Steven,” he said loudly, before replacing him on the ground. “We were not sure if you had survived the attack.”

            Steve rubbed the back of his neck, looking down shamefully. “Uh, yeah, sorry guys. I had some…things to take care of,” he apologized, looking up to where Bruce and Rhodey were sitting on the couch. The tree from earlier ( _Groot, he reminded himself_ ) sat there as well with a small...raccoon?

            Shuri’s face turned soft, and she placed her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I understand,” she said, and the look in her eyes told Steve that she knew exactly what was going on. “We’re just glad you made it back.”

            “Is this…everybody?” he asked carefully, looking around the room. He hadn’t spent much time around the other Avengers since Sokovia, but he remembered the days before the fight. A new wave of sadness rushed through him as he took in the gravity of the situation.

            “That we know of,” Bruce said. “Tony, the Peters, and Strange were across the universe the last time we heard from them. I’ve been working on getting into contact with Tony, but I think his suit is messed up – I mean, we’re hoping for the best, but…” He trailed off, but Steve knew what he was implying.

            “Well, I think we need to get back to New York,” Steve suggested. “That’ll be the first place Tony goes, anyway, to check on Pepper. And if he doesn’t…at least there will be other people there who can help.”

            “I’ll make sure you have everything you need for your journey,” Shuri assured him. “But I must stay here. Without my brother…there are matter that I have to attend to.” She looked at Steve with all the grace and authority of a princess, but they could all hear the worried sixteen-year-old girl behind it.

            “Thank you, Shuri,” Steve said quietly. “We appreciate how much your country has done for us.”

            “Are you guys planning on going back after Thanos?” Rhodey asked, eyeing Steve incredulously.

            Steve nodded. “It’s the only way, Colonel. We have to make this situation right.”

            Rhodey shook his head. “No way, Cap. I can’t do that again. I can give you ground support, tech support, whatever but...” He looked at Steve sadly. “I’ve seen a lot of wars in my lifetime, and that one was the worst. I’ll die before I jump into a suicide mission.”

            “I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” he assured Rhodey. “I wouldn’t ask any of you to do that,” he addressed the rest of them. “You can come with me if you want, but I’m fine doing this alone. And I’m doing this either way.”

            Thor moved to stand beside Steve. “I will join you, Capitan,” he said boldly. “My home is gone, my father is gone, and now my brother is gone. If I can help make any of this right again, I will do my best.”

            “I’m sorry, Steve,” Bruce shrugged. “I wish I could help, but...the Other Guy doesn’t seem too keen to do much of anything these days.”

            “I am Groot,” said Groot, standing up from the couch. The raccoon elbowed him sharply before joining.

            “Yeah, yeah, _whatever_ ,” he growled. “We’re in, too, man.”

            Steve cocked his head, looking down at the two aliens. “Okay. Um, I’m sorry, I met your friend but…who are you?”

            “Rocket,” said the racoon, extending his paw. Steve bent down to shake it, offering two fingers for the small animal.

            “Rocket,” Steve mused, before nodding his head. “Alright, guys. I want you to know that…I really appreciate this.” He smiled, almost real this time.

            “We all lost someone, Steve,” Natasha reminded him gently. “We’re doing this for them.”

            “For them,” Steve repeated. _For Bucky,_ he said in his heart.


	4. 4

 

 _Bucky woke first, the sun filtering in through the window. He smiled to himself, thinking of the good it would do for his succulents. Steve slept soundly still beside him, making a soft snuffling noise (_ Goddammit, Buck, I do not snore, quit tellin’ everyone that I do! _). Bucky was curled up next to him, his head resting on Steve’s bicep and Steve’s arm slung across his waist. Bucky sighed, not because he was tired, but because he was content._

_He knew there was a fight to come; that’s why Steve was here in the first place, and not off beating the shit out of rogue, leftover Hydra goons. It’s why he was awake, his new arm firmly attached and functioning, and not attending therapy for most of the day. But he also knew that the two of them had let too many moments like this pass them by, had forgotten to savor the little things._

_So Bucky pushed those thoughts out of his head and focused on what was here, what was now. The golden sunlight colored highlights in Steve’s blonde hair, which was curling at the ends after the sweat they had worked up the night before. His long eyelashes (_ so long, impossibly long _) brushed against his hard cheekbones, fluttering gently as he dreamed. Bucky resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, lest he wake Steve from his peaceful sleep._

 _They didn’t do a lot of talking the night before when Steve had flown in, not just because they were busy with less,_ ahem _, vocal matters (_ though they certainly were _), but because they both knew that it did no good to dwell in the past. They were here, together,_ finally _, and if just for a moment, things were working out. But Bucky could tell that this was the first good sleep that his lover had gotten in quite some time._

_The beard made Steve look tougher, somehow outdoor-sy, yet Bucky could see that he was using it to conceal the harsh lines and the gaunt shadows etched deep in his skin. The serum prevented Steve’s descent into aging, obviously, but the tragedy and loss that this man had experienced in his hundred years on Earth…the serum was not prepared for that. Sleep, tenderness, and true companionship were clearly missing from Steve’s life, and it showed on his face._

_He was still beautiful, though, to Bucky. The things that he had always loved about the other man – his bravery, the sharp glint in his eyes before a fight, the way he laughed with his whole body – were unaffected by Steve’s time at war. Bucky knew that while the effects of time may not be reversible, they might be able to smooth out some of the rougher edges._

_Steve began to stir in his sleep, maybe because he could feel Bucky’s eyes studying him. He cracked one eye, the bright blue shining clear in the early morning. “’Morning,” he murmured, tightening his arm around Bucky’s waist._

_Bucky shimmied closer until his face was mere inches away from Steve’s. “Good morning,” he whispered back, leaning forward until their lips were almost touching. “How’d you sleep?”_

_Steve closed the gap between the two of them, pressing his lips against Bucky’s. Bucky reached up to card his fingers through Steve’s hair, pulling them somehow even closer. Steve, spurred on by this act, deepened the kiss, his tongue licking into Bucky’s mouth. He nipped at Bucky’s lower lip, eliciting a low moan. Steve’s hand sank lower from Bucky’s waist, grabbing a handful of Bucky’s ass and squeezing. Bucky moaned again, louder this time. Steve (_ that bastard _) leaned back from his partner, shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “That answer your question?”_

_Bucky couldn’t help but to smile back, rolling over so that he lay on top of Steve, his leg nestled firmly between Steve’s thighs. “Glad I could help you out with that,” he returned, running his hands across Steve’s chest._

_“I could get used to this, y’know,” Steve said, his voice hinting with an edge of seriousness._

_“Sleeping well?” Bucky played dumb, moving his hands towards Steve’s nipples, tweaking the left one lightly. He was rewarded with a soft gasp, egging him on to do the same to the right._

_“Waking up next to you.”_

_“Every day?” Bucky asked, still trying to maintain a playful lilt to his voice._

_“Every day,” Steve answered sincerely, capturing Bucky’s lips in another kiss. “If you’d have me.”_

_Bucky averted his gaze, his heart thudding in his chest. Steve seemed to sense his anxiety, and began to rub his back in large, soothing circles. “You know what you’d be gettin’ into, right, Rogers?”_

_“Mm-hmm,” Steve assured him. “That’s why I’d be doin’ it.” He sat up against the wall, pulling Bucky up with him so that they were face to face. “The way I see it,” he began. “If we manage to get through all ‘a this - ”_

_“_ When. _”_

 _“…Alright,_ when _we get through all ‘a this, we’ll be able to say that we’ve literally survived everything. We’ve both died at least once, we’ve fought every kinda alien imaginable, and we’ve lived to tell the tale. So I think that…it’d be about time to stop fightin’.” Now it was Steve’s turn to look shy, anticipating Bucky’s response._

_“You’d be ready to turn in the shield?” Bucky asked, a little surprised._

_“Well, the shield’s kinda already gone. It’d more be about turnin’ in the title, the suit, all ‘a that.”_

_“Who would be Captain America, then?” Bucky asked, frowning. “The world needs you, Steve. They need what you stand for, what you can do.”_

_Steve softened, and he held Bucky’s face between his hands. “You need me too, baby,” he reminded Bucky. “And I think Steve Rogers needs a little ‘me’ time as well.”_

_Bucky blinked, his eyes clouding over a little at that admission. “You’d throw all of it away, for me?”_

_Steve laughed, showing Bucky how silly he thought that question was. “Buck, I’d do anything for you. You mean more to me than any ol’ dumb metal circle. And anyways, I think Sam’s really been itching to try on that suit. He’d be a really great Cap, too.”_

_“I love you,” Bucky stated, simple as anything. He lurched forward for a kiss, and Steve obliged. They kissed for a few moments before Bucky pulled away and said, “When this is over, can we go back to Brooklyn? I mean, I love it here, and I’m grateful for all they’ve done for me, but…”_

_“You want to go home,” Steve finished plainly._

_“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “I’m ready to go home.”_

Steve was jolted from his reverie when their jet touched down on the runway in New York. Natasha touched his shoulder as she disembarked the plane. “You good?” she asked, noticing the far-away look in his eyes.

            “Yeah,” Steve answered, looking out at the city. “Getting better.”


	5. 5

They had landed at Stark Towers, which had become a triage center for the chaos left by Thanos’s lackeys in their absence. Pepper ( _who had survived, thank god_ ) had opened the first few floors to serve as medical bays, missing persons location and reunification centers, and supplies marketplaces. She hurried around the tower, no longer wearing her signature heels and red lipstick, but clutching a clipboard and her cell phone.

            “Oh, my god! You guys are alive, we had no idea,” she shrieked when she saw the group of them enter the lobby, still dressed in their battle-worn suits. “Come with me, I think Tony’s upstairs in the lab.”

            “Tony’s alive?” Steve asked, surprised and relieved at the same time. “How’d he make it back? What about the others?”

            Pepper pressed her lips into a tight line, sadness coloring her face. “He wouldn’t tell me the details,” she explained. “He just showed up here yesterday, still wearing most of the suit, with a pretty severe stomach wound. He was in medical for a few hours, but then _checked himself out_ and went straight to the lab.”

            They took the elevator to the fourteenth floor, and Pepper swiped them into the lab. Tony was bent over a table, fiddling with some wires on something that looked like a small electrical panel. He was wearing a white tank top, but the thick bandages underneath were still visible.

            “Tony, dear?” Pepper said softly, walking up to him and resting her hand over his. “Some of your friends made it back.”

            Tony picked up their intertwined hands and kissed the back of Pepper’s before turning to the group. “Oh, holy shit,” he breathed, before walking up to Steve and clasping his shoulder. “Never thought I’d say this, old man, but am I glad to see you.”

            Steve smiled. “Likewise, Stark.” Natasha came forward for a brief hug, as did Thor. Rocket and Groot hung back, but Rocket offered a small salute to the engineer.

            “Where’s Peter?” Rocket asked, looking around the lab. “Nebula was with you too, right? And Drax? What about Gamora?”

            “The kid, Starlord, and the good doctor, too,” Tony mused bitterly.

            “They didn’t make it,” Natasha guessed, her voice low.

            “Peter died right in my arms, you know that?” Tony told them, his voice breaking on his protégé’s name. “He was my responsibility. I took him off the streets, I gave him the suit, I dragged him into all of this and he _died_ right in front of me and there wasn’t a _goddamn thing_ that I could do.”

            “This is not your fault, Stark” Steve said gently, repeating what Natasha had told him not so long ago. “This is about Thanos.”

            “No, you’re wrong about that, Capsicle,” Tony laughed harshly. “This is completely, one-hundred-fucking-percent on me.” He faced the, his eyes manic. “Strange gave Thanos his stone in exchange for my life. If he had just let me die, then none of this would have happened!” Tony slammed his fist down on the metal table, sinking back onto his stool. “He should’ve let me, he should’ve picked the universe over me.”

            Steve walked over to him, leaning back against the table. “We don’t trade lives, Tony,” he stated. “Strange did the right thing.”

            “Well, look where _that_ got him,” Tony sniped.

            “Did anyone else make it out with you?” Natasha asked, attempting to diffuse the situation.

            “When I saw things starting to go to hell, I called in the army of suits,” Tony explained, fiddling haphazardly with the panel on his table. “But by the time they got to Titan…it was just me and Quill. Nebula took off a long time ago, no idea where she went.”

            “I am…Groot? Groot asked.

            “Yeah, buddy, I’m sorry,” Rocket told him, patting his arm. “Gamora, Drax, they’re, ‘poof’.”

“Actually…” Tony began, “Not Gamora. Well, yes, she’s dead, technically, but she didn’t go with the others.”

            “What happened?” Rocket asked, his little paws balling up into fists.

            “I think I should let _Peter_ explain it to you,” Tony deferred, biting out the other man’s name. “After we got back to the city and he made it through medical, he stormed off to one of the rooms upstairs and I haven’t seen him since.”

            “What room? Can we see him?” Rocket demanded.

            “I called him when you all arrived, he should be down in a moment,” Pepper told him, and right on cue, Peter walked through the door. He had shed his signature maroon coat and leather pants, and was instead dressed in the finest Stark Industries sweats.

            “Glad y’all could make it,” he greeted them, nodding towards Groot and Rocket. He eyed Thor suspiciously, and looked confusedly at Natasha and Steve. “This is it?” he asked.

            Steve nodded. “Tony was just telling us about what happened on Titan.”

            “Didn’t tell them _everything_ , though,” Tony snarked at Peter. “Go on, why don’t you tell them about your girlfriend? Oh yeah, and also how you kept us from _destroying the infinity gauntlet?_ ”

            Peter took a menacing step toward Tony, but Thor put his arm out across his chest. “Now is not the time to fight, brothers,” he intoned. “Our team has already faced much destruction and death. There is no need for more.”

            Peter retreated, but kept the angry expression on his face. “Gamora died so that Thanos could get the Soul Stone,” he explained. “A soul for a soul.”

            “Man, I’m sorry,” Rocket said. “I know how you…felt about her.”

            “I made a stupid mistake, okay?” he yelled, throwing his hands up at Tony. “When that giant purple asshole told me how he just threw her away like that, I lost it! I didn’t mean to mess up your whole plan!”

            “Sorry isn’t good enough, though, is it?” Tony jeered. “Not when half the planet’s extinct!”

            “Boys, enough!” Natasha growled, her voice cutting through their argument. “We’ve already been over this. What happened was nobody’s fault but Thanos. And there’s no way that we’re going to fix anything if we keep fighting like this.”

            “She’s right,” Steve agreed. “We have all lost people that we loved. It would be a dishonor to their memory if we screwed up our chance to fix things because we couldn’t stop bickering.”

            “So you guys have a plan to fix this, then, huh?” Tony asked, a little calmer this time. “Count me the fuck out, whatever you do. I’m done with this intergalactic bullshit.”

            “Plus you’re not allowed out in the field again for a very, very long time,” Pepper reminded him sternly.

            “Well, not a plan, exactly,” Steve said, reeling. “I just…we have to do something. We can’t just stand around.”

            “We gave it everything we had the last time around! What’s left?” Tony asked.

            “We need help,” Steve acknowledged. “We need more people on our side.”

            “And you just happen to know a league of superheroes that are still alive that we just didn’t feel like calling last time?” Natasha asked, not unkind but still jaded.

            “Maybe we don’t need a league,” Peter started slowly. “Maybe we just need one person.”

            “Dude, we already have a god, a supersoldier, an enhanced assassin, and two aliens on our team. What bigger guns could we get?” Rocket scoffed.

            “Sometimes Gamora would tell me stories, from when she lived with Thanos,” Peter said. “You’re right, he’s just about the biggest and baddest that there is. But he might have one weakness.”

            “His insane, uncheck narcissism?” Rocket suggested.

            “Love,” Peter answered. “He’s in love. That’s how we get to him.”


	6. 6

“Thanos is quite ugly, by most universal standards,” Thor pointed out. “Who would love something like that?”

            “She doesn’t love him,” Peter corrected. “That’s the whole point. He’s been pining after her for like, _ever_ , and she still won’t give him the time of day.” He shrugged, turning up his hands. “Gamora was sayin’ that she honestly thought that was part of the reason he was doin’ all of this, y’know, to impress her a little bit.”

            “Who in the fuck would be impressed by the death of trillions of innocent people?” Tony asked in disbelief.

            “Exactly who you’d think would be: Death,” Peter answered.

            “Death?” Steve repeated, not believing the words coming out of this man’s mouth. “So Death is…a person? Who is real? And who Thanos has a…crush on?” ( _Honestly, as much as he loves the twenty-first century, things like this remind him how much better the olden days were. In 1932 there were no physical embodiments of existential doom, only blatant homophobia and Nazis. Which, now, look like a piece of cake_ ).

            “She prefers ‘Lady Death’, from what I hear,” Peter corrected. “And, uh, yeah. She’s about as real as it gets. And apparently, she’s kind of a badass.”

            “Why would she help us?” Natasha asked. “If her title is truly ‘death’, wouldn’t this just be a point in Thanos’s favor?”

            “I don’t think so,” Peter said. “From what Gamora has told me…Lady Death is actually kind of chill. For something of a demon, she has standards. The murder of trillions of people on a planet like Earth kinda seems like the sort of thing that would embarrass her and her brand.”

            “So you think that Thanos has not earned her affection through his deeds?” Thor surmised. “You believe that she will be angry when she has learned of his destruction?”

            “I dunno how angry, but, yeah, I don’t think this is gonna put Thanos on her good side,” Peter said. “And plus, she’s sorta got this side thing goin’ right now with some other guy…Deadman? Deadguy? Who knows, he wears a red suit and he’s got a smartass mouth.”

            “Do you think she can reverse the deaths? Or just kill Thanos?” Tony broached the subject none of them dared.

            Peter sighed. “I have no clue. She’s Death, I don’t think she has the power to create life. Kinda goes against the whole idea.”

            Tony nodded, clearly expecting this answer but not enjoying it anyway.

            “We might be able to, though,” Steve broke in. “In…in a way.”

            “What do you mean, Steve?” Natasha said carefully.

            “Well, if we can get Lady Death to kill Thanos for us, then, great,” he described. “But then we have to find something to do with all the Stones, so that nothing like this ever happens again.”

            “We shall destroy them, one by one,” Thor declares. “I believe that my axe may be able to complete this task.”

            “Good, yeah, something like that,” Steve agreed. “We’ll work out the details later. But before we destroy them, we should use them. One of them, specifically.”

            “The Soul Stone,” Natasha realized. “We use it to restore the souls of the ones we’ve lost.”

            “That’s crazy,” Tony interjected. “There’s no way that would work. I mean, you’re talking about _trillions_ of people! Do you have any idea the risk to the mechanics of the universe we’re talking about here?”

            “No idea at all, actually,” Steve replied coolly. “It doesn’t matter. We have to try. We owe it to them.”

            “I think this is a wonderful idea, Steven!” Thor grinned, clapping Steve on the back. “When do we begin?”

            “How do we find this Lady Death?” Natasha asked Peter. “Do we summon her?”

            “I don’t think we’ll have to,” Peter guessed. “She’ll probably be on Earth somewhere. Trillions of dead people might be a draw for her, huh?”

            “I’ll work on it,” Tony said finally. “I can put together some tech for you, maybe look for a strong electromagnetic interference unusual to any part of the planet, weird radio waves, that sort of thing. See if anything turns up.”

            “Thank you,” Steve told him sincerely, and Tony nodded without meeting his eyes.

            “I’m coming, too,” Peter approached Steve. “I know that I can’t bring her back,” he admitted quietly, “but seeing that purple thumb go down in flames might help me deal with this a little better.”

            “Look, this sounds great and all,” Rocket started, “but I don’t know if Groot and I are cut out for this kind of shit. Aliens are cool, yeah, but Death? No thanks.” He turned to Peter. “We’re gonna head back out, maybe pick up a few jobs. If anything works out…let us know, maybe we’ll catch up again sometime.”

            “I get it,” Peter told him, reaching out for a quick fist bump. “You guys stay safe out there.”

            “I am GROOT!” Groot yelled defiantly on their way out the door, which caused Peter to chuckle.

            “So we’re really doing this, huh?” Natasha mused, a grin evident underneath her calm exterior. _She was raised in a battlefield. She’s never know anything but the fight._

            “Yeah, I guess we are,” Steve decided. He laughed a little as he told her, “Y’know, Bucky used to say that I must’ve been lookin’ for death, given all the fights ‘n trouble I would get into.”

            “Wasn’t wrong back then, sure as hell isn’t wrong now,” Natasha noted, checking Steve’s hip with her own on the way out the door.

            “Nope,” Steve agreed popping the ‘p’. _Bucky has always been right._


	7. 7

 

            Tony’s gadget works, not that anyone’s surprised. He calls the team down to his lab a few hours later and points to a glowing dot on the holographic screen, somewhere around…

            Manhattan?

            “It’s one of the most densely populated areas on Earth,” Tony pointed out. “Makes sense that she’d be here. Lots of dead people and all.”

            “Cuts down on travel time,” Natasha commented dryly.

            “Let’s go, then.” Steve inclined his head towards the door. “Can you track her exact location?”

            “Yeah, sure thing, just gimme a minute…” Tony clacked a few more keys, the monitor beeping as it zoomed in closer on the map.

            “Oh my god,” Tony breathed, stumbling back from the computer. “No, this can’t be right, I just have to -”

            “Tony, what’s wrong?” Natasha asked, glancing up at the screen. “…shit,” she whispered.

            “What’s going on? Where is she?” Peter demanded.

            “She’s here,” a voice came from the doorway. The lights in the room flickered briefly as a tall figure entered the room, cloaked in an eerie black robe. It seemed almost ethereal as she floated more than walked towards the center of the group, the monitor of Tony’s screen blacking out as she passed.

            “I heard you were looking for me,” the voice continued, but her face was still obscured the thick hood of the robes. “Since I was in the neighborhood anyway, I thought I might as well drop by.”

            “You’re Death?” Steve asked, stepping forward and crossing his arms. None of them had arrived at the lab with weapons, so if this didn’t go well…

            “ _Lady_ Death,” Thor corrected carefully, a small blue flash crackling at his fingertips.

            “I am,” the figure replied. “Who wants to know?” she inquired, tucking back her hood so that the heroes could see her face.

            Or what was left of it.

            Her body beneath the robes held a girlish figure, a dark dress curving along her limbs. But her face (and her hands, as they discovered when she went to lift her hood) were skeletal. Her eye sockets didn’t appear hollow, filled with the same ghostly darkness that fluttered at the edges of her form. They peered around the room, seeing everything and nothing all at once.

            “Captain America,” Steve said, uncrossing his arms while still trying to convey a sense of authority. “This is my team: The Black Widow, Starlord, and Thor Odinson, God of Thunder. And Iron Man,” he added, throwing a look at Tony, who was clutching at the edges of the table, his face white as a sheet.

            “Interesting,” she remarked, moving closer as if to inspect each one of them. When she looked at Steve, she smirked. “I have seen you once before, yes? In the Arctic?”

            Steve stiffened at the reminder of his past, but set his jaw sternly. “It was a close call,” he said finally.

            Lady Death smiled again ( _how she could convey such a leering expression without any lips was vaguely horrifying_ ). “Yes, there seem to have been quite a few of those.”

            “We’ve come to ask for your help,” Natasha interrupted. “With Thanos.”

            Lady Death turned to look at her. “And why do you think that I would help with that?”

            “We know about you two’s history,” Peter explained. “He’s in love with you.”

            She laughed, short and cruel. “He may think that he is in love with me, but he is not. I am not a creature made for those kinds of attractions. We have no relationship to speak of.”

            “But he wants to impress you, badly,” Peter went on. “He thinks he can win you over with some crazy display of affection.” He gestured lamely out the window, at the streets littered with destruction and chaos. “Something like that.”

            Lady Death clicked her skeletal fingers against the metal table, seemingly in thought. “I had wondered what that was all about,” she pondered. “But if he really knew me at all, he would know that I have no interest in that sort of thing.”

            “The Lady of Death has no interest in the loss of trillions of lives?” Natasha asked. Steve shot her a look that clearly read _you’re pushing it_ , but she brushed him off.

            “Not in this manner,” Lady Death amended. “Death is a natural part of life, for all beings. It is not always beautiful or easy, but it must come to pass. This,” she pointed at the streets, “is not what death intends. This is annihilation for annihilation’s sake; it does not encompass the true meaningfulness behind what I do.” She shrugged lightly. “It is rather shameful, really.”

            “So you agree,” Peter said excitedly. “Thanos has to be punished for what he’s done.”

            “Perhaps,” she nodded. “But who am I to be the one to do so?”

            “We don’t need you to do it,” Steve said. “Just help us find him. And help us get the Stones back.”

            “You need the Stones to restore the lives he took,” she guessed. “The Soul Stone.”

            “We need the Stones to restore balance to the universe,” Steve told her.

            “Something does need to be done about all of this,” she agreed. “Thanos will trust me enough to meet. Do you have a plan beyond that?” Somehow, she appeared to be arching one eyebrow expectantly.

            “Um,” Peter began, scratching the back of his neck. “Could you, maybe, uhh, flirt with him or something?” He scrambled to find his next words as Lady Death’s face turned disapproving. “Not like, for real, or serious or anything. Just, uhh, distract him – I don’t know – a little? While we go for the Gauntlet?”

            Lady Death let out another laugh, this time a little bit more friendly. “I suppose that may work,” she conceded. “But what will you do with the Stones, once you save your friends? How can I trust that you will not turn out exactly like him?” She faced Steve with a look that was ( _dare he say?_ ) motherly. “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

            “We’re going to destroy them,” Steve promised. “When we bring Wanda back, she can use her powers to crumble them.”

            “Not a bad plan” she accepted. “Would you like me to bring you to him now?”

            “Please,” Thor said, his fists curling at his sides. “The sooner that we finish this fight, the better.”

            “Alright,” she nodded. “He is on Titan. Gather yourselves, and we will proceed.”

            The other Avengers began to file out of the room in search of suits and weapons, but the Lady stopped Steve on his way out with a thin, cold hand on his shoulder. He could feel her power burning through his suit, reminding him of the icy waters of the ocean rushing into his lungs. He gasped, and turned to face her.

            “You know that the Soul Stone does not work for free,” she stated quietly so that only he could hear. “It requires a sacrifice of love.”

            Steve stared hard at her, shutting his jaw with a sharp _clack_. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, then,” he finished.            

            She shook her head, almost sadly. “You are a brave man, Capitan. You must be sure that you are willing to pay such a price.”

            “It’s fine,” he assured her quickly, before turning to catch up with the others.

            _“You’ve always been a better man than me, Stevie,” Bucky said, sitting on the table in his white scrubs in the lab in Wakanda. “I look up to ya, y’know?”_

_Steve rolled his eyes and punched him playfully in his un-injured shoulder. “Quit it, jerk. We all know you’re the good guy around here.”_

_“Not all the time,” Bucky reminded him mournfully. “I’m only good when I’m with you.”_

_Steve’s eyes softened, and he took Bucky’s hand in his. “You’re a good man, Bucky. What they did to you didn’t change that. And you’re gonna keep on bein’ a good man, when we get you outta here,” he stated, jerking his head towards the cryostasis capsule._

_“You deserve this, baby,” he said more quietly. “After all that you’ve been through, after how hard you’ve worked? You deserve to be happy.”_

_“Don’t you?” Bucky asked, turning over Steve’s hand and tracing soft lines on his palm. “Don’t you deserve to be happy?”_

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. _It’s fine,_ he thought again. _Whatever it takes._

Yes indeed _._ Whatever it takes.


	8. 8

They landed on Titan later that evening. The good Lady had used magic to transport them, negating the need for a ship. She had hidden them carefully among the rocks and the ruins scattering the planet, out of sight until Thanos was thoroughly disarmed.

            Possibly literally.

            They watched from around the corners as she approached the Mad Titan, her dark robes swirling at her feet. He knelt before her, kissing the back of her hand before rising.

            “It is good to see you, my Lady,” Thanos declared. “It has been a long time.”

            “Yes,” she agreed, stroking one bony claw across his cheek. “A very long time. Several millennia, at least.”

            “Why have you returned, after all of this time?” he asked.

            “I have received word of your doing on Earth. Some whispers about how you have acquired the Stones and worked them in your favor.”

            “Your whisperers are correct,” Thanos assured her, proudly brandishing the gold gauntlet on his arm. “It took much effort, and many lives, but the Infinity Stones are now in my power.”

            “They are truly beautiful,” Lady Death admired, ghosting her fingers across the golden metal. “It must have been a difficult task,” she said, stepping closer to him. “Very difficult for one man to take on, all alone. And for what gain?”

            Thanos drew his arm around her waist, using the other to gesture at the galaxy beyond them. “Balance, my Lady. The universe may now return to the state that was intended for it. Children will no longer starve, families will no longer be torn apart by endless wars, and humans can flourish as they did before.”

            “There were several trillion too many of them, weren’t there?” Lady Death agreed. “But what about your own children?”

            Thanos hung his head. “They are among some of the lives that I spoke of,” he admitted. “My daughter, Gamora, and perhaps Nebula. It is a great loss for me, but I did what was necessary.”

            “I grieve with you for Gamora,” Lady Death murmured, placing her hand on Thanos’ chest. “She was a strong warrior, and she will be missed.”

            Steve could feel Peter tense up beside him, so he put a steady hand on his shoulder. _Not now,_ he mouthed, and Peter nodded stiffly.

            “I did this all for her,” Thanos insisted. “I did this all for _them_. You understand, don’t you? The taking of life is a precious thing; I did none of this lightly.” He looked down at her, eyes pleading to understand. “It is what you would have wanted to do, if you had been able.”

            “Of course,” she soothed. “If I was as courageous, as righteous as you.”

            And then she tipped up her chin, leaning closer to Thanos’s face. The moment that they kissed ( _kissed? She doesn’t even have lips! Steve had no idea how any of this was happening, but he knew that this was their shot._ ) Steve launched forward from behind the rocks, his team right on his heels.

            Natasha came in quick with her widow bites, throwing a handful at Thanos’s left shoulder. Peter got in a few shots with his blaster, knocking Thanos onto his back.The gauntlet immobilized, Death grabbed it, using her powers to keep him still. While Thanos struggled to understand what was happening, Thor held his axe to the sky, blue thunderbolts crackling bright in Titan’s red sky.

            “My Lady?” Thanos asked, panicked. “I did this for you! You have to understand, you must know why it had to be done!”

            “Death is a power unlike any other,” she replied. “It is a gift and a curse. You were never fit to wield it.”

            Before he could reply, thunder and lightning boomed above them. With a loud roar, Thor swung his axe at the Mad Titan’s head in a flash of blue light. When the dust around them settled, Thanos lay still, the Stones still shining luminously in the dirty gold metal.


	9. 9

“It is finished,” Lady Death said solemnly, removing the gauntlet from Thanos’s limp hand. “You have succeeded.” She deftly popped the Stones out from their chambers and handed them to Steve. “Do what you must.”      She disappeared into the air, black smoke rising from where she stood.

            “Steve? What does she mean?” Natasha approached carefully.

            “We’re going to bring them back, Nat,” he said, holding out his palm and displaying the gems. “We’re going to bring them all back.”

            “Tony said that this was not safe,” Thor warned. “We risk more than we may gain.”

            “We have to try. Our friends, we have to try for our friends!” He looked at his team, pleading with them. “Right?”

            “How’s this going to work?” Peter asked. “Just…rub on it, like a genie’s lamp?”

            “It takes a certain kind of…power,” Steve said, trying to figure out how to phrase this.

            Natasha’s eyes widened as she realized what was about to happen. “Steve, please,” her voice broke. “There’s another way, we’ll find it, let’s just go back to New York and -”

            He smiled at her sadly. “This is it, Nat. It’s okay,” he reassured her. “It’s okay.” Steve handed her the gems, keeping one for himself. “It’s all going to be over soon.”

            “Don’t do this,” she begged, holding tight to his hand. Her sharp nails gripped into his skin, trying to force him to stay.

            “I love you guys,” Steve said, voice steady. _In his mind, he could already see Bucky waking up, eyes clear, body strong, awake and alive and happy and –_ “Please know that. I love you all so much.” He untangled his hand from Natasha’s and walked away, towards the edge of the cliff they had fought on.

            “Steve!” Natasha yelled. “This isn’t what he would have wanted!”

            “But it’s what he deserves,” Steve replied kindly, holding her gaze as he turned to look over his shoulder. “He deserves to live. They all do.”

            He closed his eyes tight, taking a deep breath before holding the stone close to his heart. It clinked against the dogtags chained there, reminding him once again why he was doing this. Before any of them could run to him, he stepped off of the cliff.


	10. 10

_Hurts. His head hurts._

Bucky woke up slowly, lying on the ground in the middle of the forest. His head pounded behind his eyes, and his throat was dry. He looked around to see some of the other Avengers trying to stand up too. Memories began to come back to him in bits and pieces, flashing like a television that was shorting out. Thanos was nowhere in sight, but last he remembered, the Titan hadn’t died. He could see T’Challa and Wanda, but where was –

            _Steve?_

            Steve was nowhere to be found.

            He could remember a tingling feeling in his arm, a sickness twisting in his stomach. He had turned towards his best friend, reached out one last time, before…

            Nothing.

            “What happened?” he croaked out to T’Challa, who was holding his head gingerly. “Where are the others?”

            “I do not know,” T’Challa answered. “I can’t seem to remember what just happened.”

            “We need to get back to the main building,” Bucky told him, biting through the fog in his mind. There didn’t seem to be any imminent danger, and everyone seemed uninjured for the most part, but a sinking feeling told Bucky that everything was not okay. He helped T’Challa take a few steps before they gathered the others and made their way back.

            Bucky couldn’t help but smile when Shuri saw her brother walk through the door. “It worked!” she hollered, embracing the king. “Tony just called, he said that the others made it back from Titan and we should expect you all to be showing up soon!”

            “It’s over?” Bucky asked, a little confused. “I thought we lost.”

            Shuri’s face tightened a little around the edges, her words coming slower. “We did, at first. Some of us disappeared. Steve took the rest to -”

            “Steve?” Bucky asked, his heart pounding. “He made it? He’s okay? Where is he?”

            Shuri’s face twisted even deeper in pain. “Steve took the survivors back to New York. They went to Titan and faced off with Thanos, retook the Stones, and…Steve used the Soul Stone to bring back the dead.”

            “Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?” he whispered, falling heavily against the wall as he felt his knees go weak. “What did he do?”

            “The Soul Stone needs a sacrifice in order to work. A sacrifice of love,” Shuri explained. “Steve did it for all of us.”

            Bucky’s vision when dark, and he collapsed onto the ground. Wanda tried to catch him, but he just waved his arms around blindly. He gripped his hands in his hair as tears began to flow. “He’s gone? Not like we were, but…really gone?”

            “I’m so sorry, Bucky,” Shuri said sincerely. “Natasha said that…that he spoke of you, in his last moments. She said that he was thinking of you.”

            That only made it worse. Bucky curled his knees up to his chest, not bothering to hold back his sobs. T’Challa moved to comfort him, but Shuri shook her head. “He needs time, brother. We must leave him be.” They went to the other room to give him privacy, but Wanda stayed behind.

            She sank down against the wall next to him, leaving a gap between the two of them. “I know what you are feeling,” she murmured. “To have everyone else in reunion at the cost of the one you love.”

            Bucky closed that gap and leaned his head on her shoulder. She stroked his hair gently for a few moments before he broke the silence. “Steve was my everything,” he admitted. “When I died – both times – I went with his hand pretty much in mine, looking into his eyes. It was almost peaceful, for me. But he…he died alone. Without me.” He looked at Wanda, his eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t even get to tell him that I loved him, one last time.”

            “He knew,” she said simply. “How could he have not?”

            “I feel guilty that I’m alive and he’s not,” Bucky whimpered. “He sacrificed everything for me. It just seems unfair that I get to go on and he doesn’t.”

            “Vision used to tell me that I was it for him,” Wanda told him, her voice wavering. “That there was no one else, nor would there ever be. When you are the center of someone’s universe like that…it is understandable that they would do whatever it takes to keep their world turning.” She sighed shakily. “But now I am just the axis of that world, and I have no moons or stars to orbit. I am lost in space.”

            Bucky reached out for her hand and was quiet for a moment. “What are we going to do?” he whispered.

            “We’ll do what they did,” she said, tightening her grip on his hand. “We’ll fight.”

 


	11. 11

The Avengers arrived back in Wakanda soon after, Sam thankfully in tow. Shuri escorted them to her lab, where Natasha laid out the remaining gems.           

            “You think you’re up for this?” she asked Wanda, who only nodded grimly.

            “It’s for the best,” she stated. “I should probably do it alone, though,” she added, looking around the room. “For safety. I don’t know how much power this will take, or what else might happen.”

            Shuri nodded, and the team began to file out of the room. “Bucky?” Wanda called, catching his wrist on his way out the door. “Stay, for a moment?” He nodded at Tony to let him know everything was fine, and he closed the door behind them.

            “Is everything alright?” he asked, before Wanda pressed one of the gems roughly into his hand. She covered the action by wrapping him in a hug.

            “Hold on to this for me,” she whispered. “I’ll meet you outside after dark.”

            Bucky played along and patted her on the back before leaving. He tucked the gem deep in his pocket, joining the team in the lobby as they waited for Wanda to finish.

            “Everything alright?” Natasha asked, eyeing him worriedly.

            “Yeah, ‘s all good,” he assured her. “It’s just…this is hard for her, and I kinda know how she feels. Doin’ all this work to fix everything and you still don’t get your best guy back.”

            “While I have not lost a romantic partner, my brother is also gone forever.” Thor sympathized. “His death too was at the hands of Thanos.”

            “I’m sorry, man,” Bucky said, taking a seat beside him. “I’m glad that we got some of our friends back, though.”

            “You happy to see me around, Ghost-man?” Sam joked. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

            “I’m happy to see everyone,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m happy that…all of this meant something.”

            Natasha smiled at him from across the room, but he could see the worry still burning in her eyes. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, and she relaxed.

            “How long do you think this’ll take?” Tony asked, fidgeting in his seat.

            “Why, are you eager to go back to New York?” Bucky asked.

            “Oh, hell no,” Tony scoffed. “Peter made it back to May’s house and I guess he told her the whole story ‘cause I’ve got about five hundred unheard voicemails, all several minutes long. I’m not looking forward to getting my ass kicked by that woman.”

            They all laughed at that one, and settled in for what would surely be a long evening.


	12. 12

Bucky crept silently out of his room, headed down the back stairs out to the courtyard. He stayed pressed up against the building, walking around to the back. There he spotted Wanda, sitting nervously on a bench.

            “Good, you came,” she whispered, standing to meet him. “Did you bring it?”

            “Yeah, but what’s this all about?”

            “Sit, please, I’ll explain. But you have to trust me,” she warned, motioning towards the bench.

            “I saved the Reality Stone,” she told him. Bucky pulled it out of his pocket, its colorful light still gleaming in the dark. “I think that we can use it.”

            “Use it?” Bucky asked. “To do what?”

            “Time is linear,” she explained. “So let’s say this is where we are.” She drew a thin red line in the air in front of them with her magic to demonstrate. “But this is where we could be.” She drew a second line beneath the first, and a small line awkwardly connecting the two. “And that is how we get there.”

            “An alternate timeline?” Bucky guessed. “What kind of timeline?”

            “One where Thanos never came to Earth. One where he never collected all the Stones. One where we never had to fight.” She looked at him, eyes shining. “One where Steve and Vision are still alive.”

            Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. _He had a chance to see Steve again, to finally live out their happily ever after_. “And everything else would be the same? This isn’t gonna disrupt a million other little things, like the butterfly effect or whatever?”

            Wanda shook her head, drawing more lines surrounding the first two. “There are millions of other ways this could have all played out, each one is altered just a little bit. All we have to do is use the Stone to push us into the one where only those things are changed.”

            “And what happens to the ‘us’ that’s here, now? Will they…die?”

            “No,” she answered. “The ‘us’ in this timeline will continue to live out their lives like we are doing now. They won’t even know that we used the Stone and ‘left’.”

            “Is this safe?” Bucky asked critically. Secretly, he was ecstatic, hope growing bigger in his chest with every passing momen. “We’re not gonna explode or anything?”

            “I believe that this will work,” Wanda said quietly. She smiled softly at him, but Bucky could see that her eyes were determined. “I’m going to do it regardless of what you choose, but I wanted to give you the opportunity to come with me.”

            Bucky rubbed at his face. “When we get to this other…timeline, will we remember this conversation? Will we remember the timeline that we’re in now, up until this point?”

            “Yes, because all we’re doing is taking a break from the first one and creating a new one. It’s like writing our own ending to a story that’s already begun to play out,” she compared. “We won’t be able to control anything that happens after we get back, so it’ll just be like we got to live a normal life.”

            “I’m in,” Bucky declared, dropping the Stone into her hand. “I want to go back.”

            She grinned. “Hold on tight,” she advised, before closing her hand around the gem.


	13. 13

Bucky choked on a breath, waving his arm ( _arm? Singular?_ ) frantically in an effort to steady himself. He grabbed a tree for support, the rough bark under his palm grounding him. He blinked a few times, clearing his head, before he remembered what happened.

            He was in Wakanda, in the yard outside his cabin. He didn’t have his metal arm, which meant that T’Challa never came to suit him up for the fight. Which means that the fight didn’t happen.

            _Which means that Steve is still alive._

He ran back into his home, rummaging through his meager belongings until he found some Western clothing. He tugged on a pair of jeans ( _huh, it was nice to know that he was still really good at doing things one-handed_ ) and a zip-up hoodie, before going into the closet and pulling out the green metal box. He unlocked it and carefully pulled out his dogtags and a weathered photograph. Steve’s face smiled back at him, face thin and limbs gangly. Coney Island was blurred in the background, and Bucky felt the ache of homesickness pull in his chest. He couldn’t help but to smile back as he tucked the mementos into his pocket and closed the door to the cabin for the last time.

            “The White Wolf has returned!” T’Challa announced playfully as Bucky walked into the lab.

            “What are you wearing?” Shuri asked, the judgement evident in her voice. “If you wanted more modern clothing, I could have helped you! You did not need to go digging in the trash.”

            Bucky ignored her jibe. “I’m ready to go home,” he stated, a little breathless.

            T’Challa tried to hide his grin, but Shuri was not so subtle. “Finally! Oh, he’s going to be so thrilled when he sees you!” Snapping out of it for a moment, she leveled her gaze at him. “Do you want the arm before you go?”

            He nodded, and she grabbed his elbow and ushered him over to a table across the room. She opened the case, and there lay a beautiful vibranium prosthetic. It was a dark, brushed gray, with thin gold lines at all the seams. He picked it up and it seemed weightless.

            “It’s not tricked-out like your old arm,” she explained. “This one is not made for a fight.” Her expression was gentle, and Bucky could feel his gratitude for her radiating in his chest.

            He surprised himself when his voice came out very thickly. “Thank you, Shuri.”

            “You are always welcome here,” T’Challa reminded him, settling his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

            “Steve, too!” Shuri yelled, somehow already in the adjacent lab setting up a station for the reattachment. “Steve is certainly welcome to come back with you any time.”

            Bucky didn’t even have a comeback for that one, so he just smiled.


	14. 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is it!!!! this is the final real chapter!!! all will be revealed..... ;)  
> i will be adding a short epilogue too because i need to write more fluff so stay tuned!!

Bucky was a little nervous as he climbed the steps in the old apartment building in Brooklyn. Okay, _very_ nervous. Shuri had given him very specific directions to Steve’s new place, but the feel of the city had come back to him almost immediately after stepping foot off the jet. It was like he had never left.

            It was like he was home.

            He turned right on the third floor and walked down to the apartment labeled “M”. He exhaled slowly before knocking, trying out his new arm.

            Steve opened the door right away, and to say he looked surprised to see him was an understatement. His eyes grew wide and Bucky thought his face would split in two from that smile. He wrapped Bucky in his arms, surrounding him in a warm familiar comfort. Bucky returned it in kind, nestling his face against Steve’s chest.

            “You’re back,” Steve mumbled against the top of Bucky’s head. “I can’t believe it.”

            He released Bucky for a moment so that they could step inside the apartment, but after closing the door he pulled the other man tight against him once again. “You’re doing okay?” he asked, leaning back slightly so that he could see Bucky’s face. He cupped one giant hand around Bucky’s chin, tilting it up towards him.

            “I should ask you!” Bucky scoffed, suddenly remembering why he was here, pushing at Steve’s chest. Tears made their way to the surface as Bucky began to tear into Steve. “Are you kidding me with this bullshit? We don’t trade lives, you asshole! I mean, I appreciate all the work you did to avenge my death, but I swear to _god_ Steven Grant Rogers if you ever pull a stunt like that again I will come back from the grave _specifically_ to put you into yours!”

            Steve’s brow furrowed, and he placed his hands gently on Bucky’s upper arms. “Whoa, hey, Buck – what’s going on? Your death? What are you talking about?”

            Bucky took a break from his tirade, clarity coming to him as he realized that this version of Steve really _didn’t_ know what he was talking about. “Oh, um, I’m sorry,” he apologized, resting his head back against Steve’s shoulder, trying to calm himself. He realized he was shaking, and Steve began to pet his hair and shush him quietly until he came back to himself. “I’ll tell you, but first you have to promise not to get mad.”

            “Oh, _I’m_ not allowed to get mad?” Steve mocked him. “After that rant you just threw at me?”

            “I just don’t want you to think I’m crazy!”

            “Bucky, baby,” he began, softening his tone. “I would never think that about you. I just want to make sure you’re okay, love. I haven’t seen you in over a year and then you come storming in my door yelling about coming back from the dead? What’s up?”

            Bucky led him to the couch, where Steve sat down and then motioned for Bucky to lay in his lap. He held him close while Bucky recounted his recent life events.

            “So I killed myself to bring you and trillions of other people back from the dead?” Steve summarized. “And then you broke into an alternate timeline to be with me again?” He nodded, pursing his lips. “Yeah, that tracks.”

            “Steve, I’m serious,” Bucky pleaded. “I can’t have you goin’ off and killin’ yourself, for me or anybody else. You have to promise me that you aren’t going to leave again,” he begged, his voice small.

            “Shh, baby, of course,” Steve promised, wiping the tears from Bucky’s face. “’Sides, I was thinkin’ it’s about time to retire anyway. I’m getting old, and the longing look that Sam gives my shield after every mission is gettin’ to be too much to bear.”

            “You’ll stay with me?” Bucky asked. “We can stay here? Together?”

            Steve laughed softy, pressing a kiss to the corner of Bucky’s lips. “Darlin’, we can stay anywhere you want. It’s just you and me now.”

            Bucky relaxed, leaning forward to steal another kiss. Steve indulged him, holding his hand steady on the back of Bucky’s neck. Bucky licked slowly into Steve’s mouth, and only pulled away when he felt the other man smile against his lips.

            “You went to a whole different world just to be with me,” Steve marveled. He looked at Bucky like he hung the moon and the stars, and Bucky could feel his heart burn in his chest.

            “Stevie, you _are_ my whole world,” he corrected gently. “There’s no me if there’s no you.”

            Steve’s smile grew impossibly wider, and he dragged Bucky back in for another kiss. “’Til the end of the line, Barnes.”

            “’Til the end of the line, Rogers.”

 


	15. Epilogue/Bonus Scene

They walked along the street, hand-in-hand, purposefully taking the long way back to the apartment after brunch with Wanda and Vision. Steve had cautiously asked her if Vision was in on this whole “alternate universe” thing, too, which had earned him a great deal of laughter from the happy couple. Vision seemed remarkably well-adjusted about the whole fact, really. They were both surprised at his human form, but what Bucky really noticed was the pure happiness written all over Wanda’s face every time she looked at Vision.

            “What are you smilin’ at?” Steve asked him, playfully bumping his shoulder.

            “Thinkin’ about last night,” Bucky retorted, bumping him slightly harder. He was rewarded when Steve’s cheeks turned a deep pink, and Bucky laughed. “Kidding. Well, not really. I was just thinkin’ about you.”

            “Me?” Steve gaped. “What about me?”

            “Nothin’, really,” Buck admitted. “Just…you. Us, really.”

            “‘Us’,” Steve repeated, sounding out the “s”. “Thinkin’ of anything good?”

            “I’m just kinda glad that there is an ‘us’, y’know?” he said. “After everything…we still made it.”

            “Bucky,” Steve said, suddenly serious. They stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, so Steve pulled them over to a shop doorway. “There will _always_ be an ‘us’, no matter what, okay? You’re it for me, baby. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you around.”

            “Not everything, though,” Bucky reminded him sternly, eyes conveying the conversation they had _just had_ about trading lives.

            “Yeah, sure, not that,” Steve continued flippantly, in a way that definitely didn’t make Bucky believe him but he could see that this was not the time to get into it. “But you’ve gotta know that, love. You’re the best part of me.”

            “Your better half?” Bucky teased, intertwining their hands and tugging Steve back into the flow of pedestrian traffic.

            Steve huffed a little, turning pink again. “Well, I think I’d have to make you an honest man before you’d really be the other ‘half’ of me. Strictly speaking,” he mumbled.

            “Marry me?” Bucky startled.

            “Geez, Buck, that’s no way to ask a guy.” Steve winked at him before his grin turned into something softer. “But, yeah, marry you. If you’d ever want something like that.”

            Bucky stopped right in his tracks again, just staring at Steve. He blinked twice before yanking on Steve’s arm, turning them left across the street and away from the path back to their apartment.

            “Bucky? Where’re we going?” Steve asked, jogging to keep up with Bucky’s pace.

            “Uh, duh,” Bucky replied. “The courthouse.”

            “Slow down there, Buckaroo,” Steve said, stepping in front of Bucky and looping his arm around so that they were turned the other way. “As much as I would love that…I want to do this right.” He looked up bashfully at Bucky. “I want to do right by you, baby, always. And you know that Natasha would murder the both of us if we snuck off without her knowledge.”

            Bucky sighed. He knew Steve was right. “Yeah, yeah, okay,” he agreed, heading back in the direction of their apartment. “But I want to do this soon, alright? A spring wedding. Please.”

            “Anything that you want, Bucky,” Steve smiled, a new bounce in his step.

            “Even your last name?”

            Steve threw a glance over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming. “Especially that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so so so much for reading this! As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated!


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